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Sunday Observer

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Early in life, most of us probably observe an unhappy relationship between labor and wealth — to wit, the heavier the labor, the less the wealth.

The man doing heavy manual work makes less than the man who makes a machine work for him, and this man makes less than the man sitting at a desk. The really rich people, the kind of people who go around on yachts and collect old books and new wives, do no labor at all.

The economic reasons for dividing the money this way are clear enough. One, it has always been done that way; and two, it's too hard to change at this late date. But the puzzling question is why, since the money is parceled out on this principle, young people are constantly being pummeled to take up a life of labor.

In any sensible world,. the young would be told they could labor if they wanted to, but warned that if they did so it would cost them.

Not here. In this country, labor is talked about as if it were something everybody ought to be dying for a chance to get into, like oceanfront real estate. We are forever haranguing each other about the nobility of labor, the dignity of labor, the rewards of labor, honest labor, decent labor and so forth, until all the starch is taken out of any potential upstarts who might be tempted to ask the sensible question: “How come, if labor is such a worthy way to spend your life, the pay isn't better?”

I used to scoff at this when I was innocent. “I don't want the reward of labor,” I would say. “I want wealth, yachts, old books, new wives.” And I would say, “Look at J. Paul Getty; he toils not, neither does he spin, yet his is the wealth of Croesus. I want to be a nontoiler like Getty and have the reward of cash.”

At first, people dealt with me patiently, and by people I mean statesmen who were wise beyond my years and understood wherein lay happiness.

“What!” they would exclaim. “Poor deluded lad! Behold the digger in his ditch. Does he not partake richly of nobility and dignity? Is poor Getty recompensed for being denied all that by the cold assuagement of lucre?”

To me, that cold assuagement seemed adequate compensation for missing out on blisters, and I determined to sacrifice a life of work for the Calvary of great wealth. It was‐a dangerous decision, and quickly abandoned, for fierce politicians began going about the country suggesting that such behavior was unwholesome, cynical and possibly subversive.

In brief, I undertook the joys of labor, joined sundry unions which sent regular mailings extolling my dignity and proclaiming dues increases, and cunningly sneaked a sinuous route from bearer of hundredpound flour sacks (that's labor!) to journalist (that's labor?) while enlarging my wealth in proportion to the decrease in my labors.

I am still not near the yacht class, fortunately for dignity, but I do have a canoe and have lately begun acquiring mildewed Book‐of‐the‐Month Club selections of the late nineteen‐thirties at garage sales.

The unions’ desire to keep us persuaded of the splendor of labor is understandable. If everybody decided to be rich instead of working, the unions would go out of business. Union men work just as hard as the average middle‐management executive and have canoes, too, and it is only natural that they not want to give up the nobility of labor for the cold assuagement of lucre.

What is baffling is the Government's attitude in all this The Government cannot afford to have a country made up entirely of rich people, because rich people pay so little in taxes that the Government would quickly go bankrupt. This is why Government men always tell us that labor is man's noblest calling. Government needs labor to pay its upkeep.

It seems to me that Government could make a concession here. Its present tax system is rigged so salaried income, which is, the kind of income labor gets, is taxed at higher rates than rich income.

It would be a simple Matter to switch the loopholes. Rich income would be taxed at the high rate salaried income now pays, and salaried workers would get the kind of loopholes the rich now have—which is to say, loopholes that make it certain that somebody else will have to do most of the tax‐paying.

I don't expect the Government to leap at this sensible suggestion. I expect it to reply that the rewards of labor are so rich we should all be glad to pay double for them, and anyhow, hasn't Government already given us Labor Day? ■